The Causeway
St Michael’s Mount has been drawing people across the water for a very long time. There’s a reasonable chance it was the tidal island the ancient Greeks knew as Ictis — a trading post where Cornish tin changed hands before heading across Europe. That was the first century BC. The granite itself is 275 million years old. By comparison, the medieval castle and chapel at the top are practically new build.
The island is linked to Marazion by a cobbled causeway, passable on foot around mid to low tide. That causeway is made of varying different rocks, and as a result it’s the subject of an Earthcache. Low tide on this particular Tuesday was 1pm, which meant the crossing would be walkable from around 11am. I wandered over at half past ten, intending to be near the front of the queue. The village was busy. Organised bus tours, by the look of it — apparently if you’re on a coach holiday in Cornwall, a day in Marazion is more or less compulsory. I joined the crowd edging towards the causeway. Water was still lapping over the top when I reached the front. I crossed anyway. My boots got slightly damp. A small price.
On the Island
National Trust membership gets you in free, which felt like a reasonable return on investment as I stepped onto the island. The Mount has been managed jointly by the Trust and the St Aubyn family since 1954 — when the then-Baron gifted the island to the nation, while quietly negotiating a 999-year lease for his family to keep living there. The St Aubyns have been in residence since 1659. They are, by any measure, committed to the location.
There are two geocaches on the island. I found the physical one first, then tracked down the virtual and validated the data I’d researched for the puzzle and multi-cache that reference the island. This is perhaps not what the National Trust had in mind when they designed the visitor experience. But the caches don’t harm anything, and they take you to corners of the island you might otherwise walk past.
Up the Hill
After the caches, I walked up to the castle. It’s not a long climb. The oldest parts of the building date from the 12th century, though it’s been extended and modified repeatedly since. In 1846, Queen Victoria arrived unannounced by royal yacht. Nobody knew she was coming, and she was entertained with tea and cake by the housekeeper until the family turned up. I suspect the housekeeper deserved a significant bonus. QV’s visit was the subject of one piece of information required for the multi-cache.
Inside the building it was tourist-central. Lots of people in a fairly compact space. Not really my preferred environment, so I moved through fairly briskly. The roof, though, was worth the trip. Good views across Mount’s Bay towards the Lizard and out to Land’s End. I took a reasonable number of photos and then headed back down.
Seagull Incident
Minimus wasn’t ready to cross yet, so I found a grassy picnic area, bought a coffee, and settled down with my book. This was pleasant for approximately four minutes. Then a seagull arrived.
I want to be clear that I was not being careless. I was reading. The seagull, however, had clearly done this before. It swooped in with the precision of a bird that has studied the angles, and removed the remaining half my cookie in a single pass. Then it was gone. The whole operation took perhaps two seconds.
I’d like to say I reacted with dignity. I did not. Fortunately no poop was involved, and the coffee survived untouched. The seagull, I assume, considers this a successful Tuesday.
Lunch and Souvenirs
Minimus pinged to say they were crossing, so I waited where I was. Once they arrived we headed to the café. I’m fairly sure I had a Cornish pasty, which in Cornwall is less a food choice and more a moral obligation. It was good.
After that we visited both island shops. St Michael’s Mount does a decent line in souvenirs. I upheld my personal tradition of buying something mildly tacky at every significant location — in this case, a waiter’s friend: bottle opener, corkscrew, the works. A thing of practical beauty, shaped like a fish. Minimus acquired a few additional items by means I didn’t closely supervise.
The Walk Back and the King’s Arms
We ambled back across the causeway at a leisurely pace, well within the tidal window. The afternoon was unhurried. There was time for a proper rest before heading out for the evening.
Dinner was at the King’s Arms in Marazion. It had already earned our trust by this point in the week. It did not let us down.
